Alto Piemonte: The Other Face of Nebbiolo
Alto Piemonte: The Other Face of Nebbiolo
Mitchell Rabinowitz
For most drinkers, Nebbiolo means Barolo. Perhaps Barbaresco too, for those who have ventured just a bit farther. These Langhe benchmarks have shaped the global image of the grape: powerful, tannic, ageworthy wines that reward patience and command prestige pricing. But this dominant narrative has a counterpart. In the pre-Alpine hills of northern Piedmont, Alto Piemonte reveals another face of Nebbiolo, one that developed independently, was nearly forgotten, and now returns with a clarity shaped by its own geography, traditions, and history. It is not a weaker version. It is tensile, precise, and rooted in diversity rather than hierarchy.
I. A Region Once Central, Then Forgotten
In the nineteenth century, long before Barolo became Italy’s noble red, the wines of Gattinara, Ghemme, and Boca were considered among the country’s finest. Gattinara was served at the court of Savoy, exported to Switzerland and France, and even appeared on the wine lists of celebrated Parisian establishments such as Café Anglais. Political figures including Camillo Cavour and later Alcide De Gasperi referenced these northern wines alongside Burgundy and Barolo.
By the mid-twentieth century, however, their prominence had largely disappeared. Phylloxera devastated vineyards just as industrialization drew workers to cities like Biella and Milan. The cultural center of Piedmont shifted south, and as Barolo gained prestige, it reshaped expectations around Nebbiolo’s identity. At the same time, Alto Piemonte’s terrain posed challenges for large-scale viticulture. Its vineyards were not part of a continuous zone but scattered across pre-Alpine slopes, separated by forest, pasture, and elevation.
Many plots were abandoned or reduced to subsistence farming. By the 1970s and 1980s, the region’s winemaking legacy was held together by only a few stubborn individuals, some of whom were making wine more for memory than for market.
The slow recovery began in the 1990s, when local families began replanting and restoring abandoned terraces. A handful of outsiders followed, drawn by the region’s history, altitude, and mineral-rich soils. What they found was not a blank slate but a fragmented system of small zones, each with its own logic and historical blends. The result was not a re-creation of Langhe’s model, but a parallel inheritance that had never fully gone away.
II. Geology and Elevation: Soil as Divergence
Where the Langhe rests on marl and sandstone, Alto Piemonte’s vineyards sit atop the remnants of volcanic upheaval and glacial retreat. In Gattinara, red volcanic porphyry creates a dense, mineral-rich foundation. Ghemme’s soils consist of alluvial material and morainic debris, left by retreating glaciers. Boca offers a mix of pink porphyry and gravelly glacial composites. These are not subtle variations in soil composition. They reshape how vines grow, how water moves through the subsoil, and how roots interact with the land.
Elevation adds another layer of distinction. Vineyards range from 300 to 500 meters above sea level, bringing cooler nights and longer ripening seasons. Nebbiolo reacts accordingly. Acidity is firmer and more persistent. Tannins tend to be finer and more granular. Aromatics lean toward alpine herbs, rose petal, and dried cherry, often with a lifted, almost balsamic note. These are wines that emphasize definition over density.
III. Naming, Blending, and Local Identity
In this part of Piedmont, Nebbiolo rarely travels under its official name. Locally, it is often called Spanna, a term that persists on labels and in vineyard speech. Some older parcels still contain Picotener, a historical biotype with smaller berries, lower yields, and a reputation for deeper color and more concentrated structure.
Blending is not only permitted but embedded in tradition. Vespolina adds spice and floral lift. Uva Rara and Croatina bring softness or deepen hue, depending on the vintage and site. These practices contrast with the varietal purity mandated in Barolo and Barbaresco, where Nebbiolo must stand alone by law. In Alto Piemonte, identity is expressed through composition, not isolation. This makes the wines more reflective of site and culture than of classification rules.
IV. Producers and the Shape of the Renaissance
Revival always depends on people. In Gattinara, Antoniolo was among the first to bottle estate wines and pursue quality over bulk production. In Boca, Le Piane stands out for its role in restoring a nearly lost zone. Swiss importer Christoph Künzli took over the vines of Antonio Cerri in the 1990s, preserving old notebooks and ancient practices while introducing modern precision. In Ghemme, producers like Ioppa and Torraccia del Piantavigna offer consistent, accessible wines that bridge tradition and market reach. Others, such as Paride Iaretti or the Nervi estate under Roberto Conterno, express the region’s upper potential through limited bottlings and site-specific selections.
The pattern here echoes what has taken place on Mount Etna. In both regions, revival has been driven by a mix of locals and newcomers, working to recover vineyard landscapes that were once abandoned or undervalued. Both are shaped by volcanic soils, individualist producers, and a resistance to monoculture. The result is not a unified style but a mosaic of approaches linked by shared geography and rediscovered pride.
V. The Architecture of the Wines
These wines are not built for show. They are composed for equilibrium. Tannins are typically fine-grained and powdery, offering grip without harshness. Acidity runs higher than in most Langhe examples, bringing precision and length. Alcohol levels are moderate, often between 12.5 and 13.5 percent, which allows flavor without excess weight. The best examples can age for fifteen to twenty years, though they are not shaped by barrique influence. Many are raised in neutral botti or cement, favoring transparency over embellishment.
There is no singular model. Some wines undergo long macerations; others rely on shorter fermentations to capture aromatic lift. Some producers lean toward delicacy, others toward rusticity. What unites them is not a style but a shared fidelity to place. They are shaped more by soil and altitude than by trends or expectations. Their coherence lies in how clearly they express what they are, not in how closely they resemble one another.
VI. Why Alto Piemonte Matters Now
As climate change pushes warmer zones to their limits, regions like Alto Piemonte become more relevant. Higher altitudes and cooler exposures offer natural buffers against heat spikes and over-ripeness. Growers here are able to preserve acidity and harvest later without sacrificing freshness. These conditions make Nebbiolo easier to balance and more versatile in its expression.
At the same time, the market is shifting. There is growing fatigue with over-extracted reds and a renewed appetite for brightness, detail, and authenticity. Alto Piemonte fits this moment, not because it was engineered for it, but because its natural conditions and historical practices happen to align with what many drinkers now seek.
The region also speaks to a cultural impulse. Consumers today are interested in rediscovery, in second narratives, in wines that reflect complexity rather than consensus. Alto Piemonte offers all of that. Although it has DOC and DOCG protections, it lacks a unifying consortium or brand platform. Its promotion has come through the work of individual growers, importers, and educators rather than coordinated campaigns. This absence of centralized identity has, paradoxically, helped preserve its individuality.
VII. Conclusion: A Counterpoint, Not a Copy
Alto Piemonte does not compete with Barolo. It complements it, offering a version of Nebbiolo shaped by different soils, elevations, and cultural practices. Where the Langhe emphasizes structure and authority, the north brings tension, clarity, and lift. The grape responds to both, revealing its full range only when these expressions are considered together.
To understand Nebbiolo in its entirety, one must also look to the north. The purpose is not to find something better, but to recognize a contrast that brings the variety into fuller focus.